The Archduke's Songbird-Chapter 266: A Cruel Act

"A peaceful life," Imogen scoffed, her voice heavy with sarcasm, each word dripping with bitterness. "You still think I didn’t deserve the title of Archduchess. You were always jealous, always so conceited. Why should I have refused when he came to me, of his own accord, and asked me to marry him?"

The venom in Imogen’s words stung, but Jessamyn only sighed, her breath escaping in a slow, measured exhalation. She had known Imogen for years, had seen the depths of her ambition and the lengths to which she would go to claim what she believed was rightfully hers.

But standing before her now, Jessamyn could see clearly that Imogen had misunderstood everything. There was no reasoning with someone so consumed by her own delusions, someone who had rewritten history in her mind to justify every cruel and twisted act.

Yet, despite everything, Jessamyn couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity for the woman before her—a woman who had lost everything because she could never be satisfied with what she had.

"You knew he didn’t love you when you married him," Jessamyn began, her voice gentle, almost coaxing as she tried to reel Imogen back to the present, away from the tangled web of lies she had spun for herself.

"He gave you everything except love. All you had to do was be content with what you had," she continued, her eyes searching Imogen’s face for any sign of understanding. "And not kill his son."

Imogen’s face twisted in displeasure, her features hardening as she turned away, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. She was not one to dwell on her sins—at least, not in a way that would lead to any real introspection or remorse.

"Are you enjoying this, Jessamyn?" Imogen asked, her voice sharp, almost accusatory. "Are you feeling superior? Are you content now?"

Jessamyn couldn’t help the small smirk that curled her lips. "I would be lying if I said no."

Imogen’s jaw clenched, her teeth grinding together in barely suppressed rage. "I don’t want to talk about the past," she snapped, her tone laced with venom. "I came to warn you—"

"Will you be content this time, Imogen?" Jessamyn interrupted, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. "If I leave, if by some miracle Jerrick reinstates you as the Archduchess, will you be content? You left for a reason, going as far as to kill your own blood. Even then, you weren’t content, and now you’ve returned here. It doesn’t take the wisest to see that the problem lies with you..."

Jessamyn’s voice trailed off as she caught sight of the expression on Imogen’s face. Rage flickered in her eyes, hot and dangerous, and Jessamyn could see that she had struck a nerve.

"Why are you bringing up that cursed baby?" Imogen’s voice was trembling with anger, her hands balling into fists at her sides. For a moment, she looked as though she might strike Jessamyn, but then she seemed to remember how effortlessly Jessamyn had disarmed her earlier. She took a cautious step back, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Jessamyn shook her head, her heart heavy with a sorrow she could not quite articulate. "I am lost for words," she said softly, almost to herself. "He didn’t have to die."

She had never thought of Imogen as someone with strong morals, but even so, she couldn’t reconcile the image of the cunning, ambitious woman she had known with the monstrous act she had committed.

Even if Imogen had not been driven by motherly love, having the baby with her would have been a safeguard, a bargaining chip in a world where power and influence were everything. It didn’t make sense.

Jessamyn couldn’t believe that Imogen, always so calculating and rational, would get so lost in her lust and bitterness that she would kill her own son. It seemed irrational, too emotional, for someone who prided herself on her level head.

"I want to talk to Jerrick," Imogen said suddenly, her voice hardening as she tried to steer the conversation away from the subject that pained her so deeply.

Jessamyn scoffed, the sound sharp and derisive. "As if he’ll want to see you. He’ll kill you himself. Even if he wanted to, I wouldn’t permit it."

Imogen’s face twisted in frustration, her pride clearly wounded by the realization that she was in a position where she had to beg Jessamyn, of all people, for anything.

"Are you scared he’ll fall for me again?" Imogen asked, her voice dripping with false bravado. But even she knew the idea was absurd. The scoff that followed betrayed her own disbelief.

"Why did you return?" Jessamyn asked, her voice steady, though her curiosity was genuine.

"To take back what was mine," Imogen answered without missing a beat, her eyes burning with a determination that had not dimmed, despite everything.

Jessamyn turned away, her gaze falling on Jostein, who had been watching the exchange in silence. She could kill Imogen right then and there, end this twisted game once and for all, but something held her back. Imogen was hiding something—Jessamyn could feel it, a nagging sense that there was more to the story, something that had not yet been revealed.

"He said your name..." Imogen’s voice broke the silence, soft and filled with a vulnerability that Jessamyn had never heard before. "That time... that was the one time he was truly passionate. It was dark, he was slightly tipsy after his visit to Aurelia Castle. He held me with so much gentleness... He knew what to do to make me feel wanted... I cried as he held me... tears of happiness..."

Jessamyn’s hands clenched into fists at her sides, her heart pounding in her chest. Imogen was talking about Jerrick—her Jerrick.

"Then he pierced my heart with a knife," Imogen continued, her voice breaking with emotion. "He said..." She paused, struggling to get the words out. "He said your name... ’Mynah’..."

Jessamyn’s breath caught in her throat, the pain of hearing Jerrick call out her name in the arms of another woman cutting her deeper than she had expected.

She had known, of course, that Jerrick had never truly loved Imogen, that his heart had always belonged to her, but hearing it like this, from Imogen’s lips, made it all the more real—and all the more painful.

No one deserved hearing their spouse saying someone else’s name while they were intimate with them. It was cruel, even if it was Imogen.

"All the passion..." Imogen’s voice wavered, and Jessamyn could hear her choking on her emotions, struggling to maintain her composure. "I could bear with it until then, but... I got pregnant because of that night. I bore the mockery of others, endured being called barren for four years, but knowing I became a mother because he thought he was making love to you cut deeper. That child was a constant reminder of that night... the night..."

Jessamyn was lost for words, the weight of Imogen’s confession pressing down on her like a physical force. She had never imagined that the truth would be so twisted, so tragic.